


A Pride of Lions

by 7ate9



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt, M/M, all the characters kinda suck, angsty, but tbh I do not care, if things are sadder, like a lot, not very good characterization, the scene, the very important scene, when Henry says no
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:46:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26303653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/7ate9/pseuds/7ate9
Summary: "Tell me," Alex said with the ghost of a smile, "to leave."Henry looked away, then looked back, his expression hard. "Leave."
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 34
Kudos: 59





	A Pride of Lions

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so like here's the thing: the characters in the book are way nicer but I have this idea and basically I want Peak Angst so they're all gonna suck thanks
> 
> also, note: this is not meant to be a good plot this is entirely for myself so unless you like unnecessarily angsty plots, maybe move on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looking up at the stars, I know quite well
> 
> That, for all they care, I can go to hell,
> 
> But on earth indifference is the least
> 
> We have to dread from man or beast.
> 
> How should we like it were stars to burn
> 
> With a passion for us we could not return?
> 
> If equal affection cannot be,
> 
> Let the more loving one be me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> W.H. Auden

Fuck, if Alex didn’t hate himself beyond belief. He really was a damn idiot, wasn’t he?

“Tell me,” he said with the ghost of a smile, “to leave.”

Henry looked away, tears sparking in his eyes, alight with the swift flicker of the flames in the fireplace. The light of the pyre made him a whole new kind of beauty that Alex could spend an eternity studying, piece by piece, moment by moment. He could take a snapshot of this moment, spend a thousand days and a thousand nights studying each tiny spec of picture printed on film, and he’d still never fully be able to uncover how beautiful Henry was.

The world was drenched in water, but inside was warm. Henry was bathed in the glow of a fire, his skin a warm orange glow, and his eyes were still bright with tears.

Alex swallowed hard, his resolve breaking. “Say it,” he told him stubbornly. If he was getting his heart broken tonight, Henry would do it right. “Tell me you’re done with me. Tell me you don’t want this anymore. Tell me you don’t love me. Say it and I’ll go.” He took a step forward, begging Henry internally to meet his gaze, for his hard expression to melt once their eyes locked. But Henry stared resolutely at the carpet under their feet, behind Alex, just doing his best to keep his tears at bay. “I won’t fight,” Alex said softly. “I won’t. I’ll leave. But if there’s a chance, Henry.  _ Baby _ .” Alex took a deep breath to continue, but Henry looked up.

A tear had fallen down his cheek, a streak of sunlight against his pale skin, the purity of sinners slipping down his face. That wasn’t what made Alex shut up, though. It was the look on his face.

He was angry. Very, very angry.

“Leave,” Henry whispered.

Alex felt his face go slack. His heart leapt into his throat, his chest collapsing in on itself in its absence. 

“Leave,” Henry hissed again. “I want you to leave. I want you to get out.” Henry shoved him, sobbing. “Get the hell away from me. It was a mistake, all of it! Everything with you! You are reckless and stupid and you could bloody well ruin my life, and I don’t fucking  _ want it! I told you! I don’t want it! Get out! _ ”

The fire was two steps behind Henry. His face was cast in shadows. The tear wasn’t visible anymore. Alex wanted to reach out and touch it, wipe away the wet reminder of Henry’s pain, but he couldn’t. Henry made his decision.

Did that mean Henry regretted all him? Their late night talks, their international hookups, their vacation? Did Henry regret loving him?

Maybe Henry never really loved him at all.

Alex’s voice was surprisingly steady, surprisingly clear. His face was slack, expressionless as he said, “Okay.”

And with that, Alex turned his back on Henry, the man whom he loved more than anything, possibly the only person he’d ever truly love who could have ever had the possibility of loving him back, and he walked away.

He didn’t cry. The skies were doing that for him.

Shaan and Cash were downstairs standing in silence. Both glanced over when they saw him. Neither looked very happy. 

“Back so soon?” Cash asked, his eyes betraying hints of sadness he desperately tried to keep from his voice.

“We’re done, Cash,” Alex told him. He wasn’t sure if he meant that he was done there, or that he and Henry were done, and he wasn’t completely sure he cared.

How did Alex fuck up this bad? How did Alex, the skeptical, the lover, the optimist, fuck up this badly?

Cash followed him out the door, and Shaan led them out, wishing them best. Despite how fucking annoying he’d been beforehand, he seemed a bit remorseful as he let them out, giving a private, sad nod to Alex as he passed. Alex didn’t care. He just wanted to go home.

He didn’t cry on the plane, either. Cash sat beside him in silence, and for the whole flight, neither said a word. They didn’t need to. Nothing could’ve saved Alex from himself now.

He was in shambles. What did Henry mean? To what extent was this a mistake? All of it?

Did Henry regret everything? 

Did Henry regret the vacation in Texas? Did Henry regret Wimbledon? Did he regret Paris? LA? The New Year’s Eve party?

Did Henry really regret everything?

Alex didn’t cry getting off the plane, either. A headache was pounding at his temples from the force of them building up behind his eyes, and he was sure his face was all red and puffy, but he also looked like a freshly dried drowned rat, so maybe he was able to contribute it to a cold. Maybe he would be able to get away with just being holed up in his room without having a single conversation with anyone. Maybe he would be able to sew up the wounds all over him without interference. Maybe he’d actually be able to get through the worst he’d ever felt in his life without having to explain himself to the entire country.

His parents, Zahra, June, and Nora were all waiting for the two of them when they finally arrived at the White House. Fuck, maybe Alex wouldn’t be lucky enough to get out of there without his heart too far beyond repair. Because Madam President Ellen Claremont looked furious as she glared at her son.

He might die tonight.

“Well, Alex, you really did it now,” she told him. 

Yeah, he must have. His dad was here. 

He didn’t answer, just let them rip into him so he could go suffer in peace.

“Did you really have to fly halfway across the world for him?” Ellen screamed.

Alex caved in on himself. Death, right now, didn’t seem too bad. His head was pounding so hard and he wanted to run right then and there, but he restrained himself. He couldn’t run, not with his mother so furious. Zahra looked ready to tear him a new asshole, as well, so maybe, just maybe, Alex would actually die tonight. He was pretty sure the two women were not incapable of murder. Plus June and Nora? People would forget Alexander Claremont-Diaz ever existed.

Maybe that’d be for the best. He wouldn’t have to live the rest of his life without Henry. 

How could Henry have been so cruel? How could he have regretted everything? 

“Do you have anything to say for yourself?” Ellen shouted at him. He shook his head meekly, and she went on, “You’re so damn reckless, Alex! Are you trying to cost us this election? Did you really need to fly halfway across the world for some goddamn booty call?”

A booty call. Right. Because, as far as they were concerned, Alex and Henry were just fuckbuddies. And that was all they ever would have been. And they weren’t even that anymore.

Alex shook his head. He couldn’t explain his unrequited love right now, not without the sad shambles of his heart tumbling from his loose grasp to the pavement below, shattering beyond repair. Maybe he was already irreparable.

“Are you so thick-headed that you didn’t even think of the consequences?” Ellen was screaming with her whole body, and Alex, her 22-year-old son, cowered in front of his mother, his president, like a scolded puppy. 

“Alex,” Ellen said, her rage still present but not quite as loud, “tell me. Was it forever?”

Alex looked up at his mother, then, at the steel cold fury in her eyes, the anger in the tension of her body. 

Was Henry forever? 

Was Henry, the only person he’s loved outside of this specific group of people, worth forever? Did he feel one-hundred percent about Henry? Did Alex Claremont-Diaz, First Son of the United States, feel forever about HRH Prince Henry of Wales?

Was forever even an option anymore?

Alex slowly, deliberately, sadly, shook his head no. 

Henry was not forever, because that was what he chose. Henry chose a goodbye, so Alex would accept that and move on. He would not dwell, he would not hurt. He would not ponder about what ifs or how soft his hair was or the special dip in his hip or the way he tasted or the way he smelled or the way it felt to be inside him or the way his accent curled around vowels or the way he woke up first thing in the morning. If he dwelled, if he thought, if he pondered… it would break him. Alex could not think about forever anymore, because his only forever said no. Forever, as he had learned recently, was a two way street. Infinity has two loops. And if one loop pulls away, all it is, is a teardrop.

Ellen stared at him, unbridled fury directed at him. “You,” she said slowly, voice shaky, “put this election at risk for a late-night fuck?”

She breathed deeply, once, twice, three times, then turned her glare back to Alex. “You are the source of all of my problems lately, Alex. You are 22 years old. I would have expected you to start acting like a goddamn adult by now. But since you refuse to act like anything but a child, I will treat you like one. You are not to leave your bedroom unless called directly down. Not even to eat. You have lost June and Nora privileges. You have lost social media privileges. Give me your phone.”

Ellen held her hand out and Alex wiggled his phone free from his pocket, placing it gently in her hand as if it were Henry himself he was giving away. Ellen passed the phone to Zahra, who immediately shoved it in her bra with unnecessary force.

“You don’t get this back. Ever.” Ellen shouted. “You do not do anything unless Zahra or I tell you to, do you understand?” Ellen said. “You are no longer a part of this election, and until you can get your goddamn act together, you are no longer part of the presidential family, you understand me?”

Alex stared at her, a whole new set of tears stinging at the backs of his eyes. 

Ellen said something rather simple. No press, no PR. But to Alex? He was being cut off. Not from the internet, not from the world. From his family.

His mother was pushing him away.

Alex missed when Henry was yelling at him.

He nodded, swallowing hard.

“You no longer have Cash on your detail, he will be reassigned and you will be assigned new Servicemen who can keep their act together.” Ellen continued.

Alex’s head snapped up, and he looked between his mother and Cash, who looked very remorseful. He was, as of right now, the only person who knew the truth of tonight, if he even really knew. He knew bits. Alex wondered, somewhere in his brain, if he’d put the rest of the pieces together. 

“You’re lucky you’re not being fired, Cash,” Ellen spat at him. 

Cash nodded once, keeping his gaze away from Alex. 

“Get out of my sight, and Cash you are not coming in tomorrow. Zahra,” Ellen gestured forward, and Zahra grabbed Alex by the elbow and dragged him inside, yelling directly into his ear as her nails dug into his skin. She deposited him in his bedroom and slammed his door shut, locking it from the outside. All over his elbow were angry little red crescent marks from her nails.

Alex glanced around the room. 

Everywhere, all over, were reminders of yesterday and all the yesterdays that came before it. The mug still smashed in his sink. A picture of a slightly younger Alex, Nora, and June at a pizza place in Texas. A picture of a sleepy Henry all wrapped up in a soft grey sweater and holding a mug of tea, smiling softly at the camera. And there were the more obscure memories within every inch of the room, the couch which he and Henry made out on for the first time, a picture of Alexander Hamilton peeking out at him from an old textbook as a painful reminder of the first real time they made out. The bed in which they fucked the first time. A picture of Henry and Pez from the New Year’s Eve party, the doors leading to the garden right behind them. The kimono on the floor from what Alex could very well consider to be the best damn night of his life. A picture of Henry and June from the vacation in Texas, the same night Alex tried to tell him he loved him. 

Alex closed his eyes against it all, against everything he needed, against the absence of Henry in the next stretch of his life. 

He needed to find something to do. 

Alex paced around his room like a tiger in its enclosure, encasing the area, his eyes tracking anything he could use as a sweet, sweet distraction from his pain. He walked around seven times, his clothes growing more and more uncomfortable as he did, begging the Great Ethereal Omniscient Being to give him some sort of reprieve from these constant reminders of the past, but he was only faced with more torture, a picture of himself on his first day working on the campaign, a picture of him and Henry at Wimbledon, the still unopened LSAT scores, the shoes in which he’d walked on the roof so many times that they were still stained red. 

His throat was getting tighter and tighter as he grew more frantic, searching blindly for a distraction, ready to rip his damn hair out in frustration, when there was a soft knock on the door, the sound of angels granting him a wish.

He opened the door in a swift movement, shocking Nora and June on the other side. Oh, thank God, they were here. 

“Hey,” June said softly, “we need to talk.”

Alex nodded silently and gestured them both inside, swallowing past the aching tightness in his throat and following the girls to his bed. He and Henry had so many late-night talks while he was right here, heart eyes big and unmistakable, letting him fall deeply in love, very, very quickly.

June and Nora looked at him, their expressions guarded, and Alex knew he was wrong to be relieved by their presence.

“I thought,” he said slowly, voice raspy, “Mom said you weren’t allowed to see me.”

“She sent us to talk, actually,” June said. Nora didn’t move, just stared at Alex’s bedsheets, face blank.

“Okay,” he said, voice weak. “What is it?”

The girls exchanged a look, and Nora sent her gaze back to the bed while June looked at him with earnest. It was so strange for him. Nora was normally so bright and full of life, it was a terrible contrast to see her now, silent and still.

“Alex,” June said slowly, “do you realize why this was a mistake?”

Alex blanched, his heart cracking. “I-- uh--”

“You realize this was a mistake, right?” June asked. 

The two looked at each other, and Alex thought.

This was probably one of the worst nights of his life. Henry didn’t love him back, and he was being cut off from his family, for what? For going to London.

But he wouldn’t have been able to move on without this. And even if Henry didn’t love him back, even if he regretted everything they ever did, wasn’t this better? Wasn’t it better to say goodbye, to part ways?

“June, it wasn’t,” Alex said softly.

She seemed tired. “Alex, you’ve always been my little brother. And you always will be.”

Alex stared at her. Nora stared at the bed. June was looking at his forehead as she spoke.

“I love you,” June said, “but this, Henry… you’ve gone too far.”

There was silence. Maybe June was expecting him to answer, but he didn’t know how. There was no way to do it. No way to speak or understand what he was meant to say. No way to keep going.

“You can’t keep doing this, Alex.” June continued. “You’re done with him, okay? Mom said that if it’s not forever, you’re done. And she’s right. It’s not permanent, Alex.” She looked him in the eye, and he felt her next words like a punch to the gut, another for each single syllable, one blow at a time. “You two aren’t right anymore, and you can’t keep pretending this is about something more than sex.”

Nora looked at him, too, and Alex couldn’t hold either of their stares. He let his gaze travel away, snagging on the picture of Henry in the sweater. 

Alex could spend an eternity looking at those pictures, looking at his face, the expression in his eyes that Alex once upon a time thought could have been love. He longed for the days of simplicity, but those days were long gone. Alex was in love now, and there was not a single good thing about it.

“What are you saying?” He asked them slowly, observing the picture from afar, the rosy cheeks from the early morning, the steam from the tea, the soft waves in his hair.

Nora sighed, exasperated. “You can’t see him anymore, Alex. You’re hurting people with your little booty call. Stop. Move on. Find someone who you can be seen in public with, some girl you can actually love for who she is. Be a good son.”

Be a good son. Be a good First Son.

Don’t ruin everything, Alex.

Find a girl. Find a good girl. Be  _ straight. _

Alex nodded. “Okay.”

He wasn’t sure what they might be waiting for, but they stayed in the room for another full minute before getting up and walking away.

The door closed with a soft click. And Alex could finally cry. 

He tucked himself into his bed, sheets drawn tight around his shoulders, and he eased himself into a soft dream state, full of soft blonde hair and kind, loving eyes and flickers of flame and blank stares, and when Alex woke once again, and the world was the same, he let himself cry all over again. 

He ached for a distraction, but there was not one to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you read my last fic, you know I like comments pls comment and love me :)))))


End file.
